Through The Looking Glass
by FujoshiPrince
Summary: And that's when Brat realized what she had done. She had been so wrapped up in her fantasy of her Prince Charming and happy ending, so deluded, that she had forgotten about the person who she loved more than anything or anyone else in the universe.


**A/N: Whooo. Another Powerpunk fanfic. Except -GASP!- one with them not being terribly Out-Of-Character for once! Wait no probably not.  
**

_I hate you! I hate you! How could you?_

"I-I don't understand?" sobbed Brat. Her mascara was smudged over her cheeks and dripping down her face, but for once, the blue Punk didn't care about her appearance. "I'm so stupid! So. Bloody. Stupid! H-how could he do that to me? How?"

_How could I have trusted him?_

"Idiot," snarled Brute, aiming a kick at her younger sister's stomach. Brat was in no position to dodge it, and so Brute's steel-toed boot connected with her body with a loud thwack. Brat reeled back. She collapsed onto the carpet and made no effort to get up.

Berserk regarded her younger sister coldly, trying to ignore the wails of despair now mixed with screams of pain that issued from her mouth and echoed throughout the dreary, barely furnished apartment. It wasn't her business. She had enough crap to deal with. She didn't have enough time or energy to waste on caring for her sisters. She never had.

Even after fifteen years, 'sisters' was still a very loose term. 'Sisters' implied caring for each other. Not being totally perfect to each other 24/7, but being there in times of need. More than anything, it implied a sort of bond; whether it was family, age, or interests, there was always some sort of bond between sisters.

For the Powerpunks, the term 'Business Acquaintances' would've been more accurate. No, even Business Acquaintances was stretching the truth. There wasn't a single word in the entire English dictionary that could describe the relationship –if it could be called that- shared by the three girls. They were an enigma in every single way, and no one, not even Jojo Jomo could deny that.

They had been created, not born from a mother. They had been raised together, but separately at the same time. The worst thing in the world was supposedly a bleak childhood. When she thought about it, _really _thought about it, Berserk could never really identify when their childhood had started and ended. Had it even started? If it had, had it really ended? She could never figure it out, and so she gave up.

Brat buried her face in her hands. "How could he? How could he?" she whimpered, the volume of her voice dying down.

Berserk did not feel even an ounce of pity for the blue-eyed girl. In contrary, she felt amusement. Not even she could've predicted the suave Right's change of heart.

Bash Jomo, Brat Plutonium's boyfriend and best friend at the same time for four years. He was intelligent, nice enough, and could even be interpreted as a sort of knight in shining armor. He had grown into a gentleman, even Brute could admit that. No one could've ever suspected that he was a _cheater. _

Berserk looked over at Brat. She had covered her ears and was still sobbing into a cushion, trying to ignore the green-eyed Punk's words of ridicule. Berserk didn't blame Brat, but she didn't blame Brute either. Like Brat, she never would've suspected Bash to be the cheating type, let alone the _gay _cheating type. But she still looked down on her for giving all of her trust, worth, and love to her archenemy.

Stupid sister. But then again, Berserk really didn't care. All that mattered was her own success. She turned her attention back to the nearly-finished blueprint of her latest plan to disable the Universe's Peace Corps and paid no more mind to her younger sister's distraught.

* * *

Brute slammed her foot into her younger sister's chest, sneering when she heard the loud crack that meant a broken rib. There was a time in their childhood that she would've comforted her younger sister. Oh, who was she kidding. _She hated her. _

"Stupid. Little. Piece. Of. Shit!" yelled Brute, smashing her foot into her younger sister's stomach with each word. "You've always been the useless one, you know that? But this? This is just too stupid! You're stupid! You. Fucking. Suck!"

Brat whimpered a plea for mercy and Brute growled. She glanced at Berserk. The redhead's attention was buried in a large sheet of blue paper, indifferent to the violence going on only three feet away from her. "Looks like luck's on my side- hey! Where'd she go?"

Brat was gone. There was a small, barely noticeable pool of blood in the spot where she had once laid, but she was gone. Brute ran over to the window, just in time to see a streak of dark blue disappear into the Viletown Pond. She glared at Berserk. "Hey, asshole! Aren't you going to do something?"

Berserk scowled. "Your prey. Your problem,"

Brute muttered a curse and jumped out the window, landing on the already cracked concrete with a loud thud. In seconds, she was at the pool. But Brat was nowhere to be seen. "I hope you drown," spat Brute, and turned her back on the pond.

* * *

Brat was dying. She had never been good at holding her breath, and now she was dying. Muddy water was filling her nose and mouth, and she was sinking abnormally fast. But she couldn't fly up. She couldn't. Brute would find her. A thick tendril of pondweed grabbed Brat around the waist and she gurgled in fear. She could feel mud in the back of her throat. The pondweed was dragging her down, down, and that's when she saw the teeth.

The pondweed wasn't pondweed. The water was so murky that it had distorted her vision. It was a tentacle. And it was feeding a colossal beaked mouth.

Just as the tentacle was about to pull her in, there was a blinding flash of color. The creature whom the mouth belonged to screeched and vanished, but Brat didn't notice. Her lungs were burning, but she lacked the energy to fly up. And just like that, Brat Plutonium was gone.

Actually, no. No she wasn't. Suddenly, she was alive.

She opened her eyes. A beautiful melodic voice immediately exclaimed: "Oh thank goodness! Are you okay?"

Brat got up abruptly. There was a girl sitting opposite her with beautiful baby blue eyes wide in concern and blonde hair in two small but neat bunches. "Who are you? Where am I?"

The girl smiled. "You're in Townsville, silly-billy! And what do you mean, who am I?"

Brat looked at her in horror. "T-Townsville?"

"Yeah! You came through one of the portals before! You nearly died, but I'm so glad you didn't! You were out for _ages_! Gee Brat, get it together!"

Brat slowly backed away. She a faint sense of nostalgia, as if she had seen this girl before, but just couldn't recognize her. "I don't know who you are. Or whatever Townsville is. How do you know my name?"

The girl froze. "You don't…recognize me?" she sighed dejectedly. "I guess that's okay. It's been years!" she paused to count on her fingers. "Thirteen, in fact! It's okay if you don't know me! I guess I'm just good at remembering stuff! My name is Bubbles! My sisters are Buttercup and Blossom. When we were five, you tried to kill us. But I guess that's what you villains do. What were you doing using the lake portal anyways? Old Slimey is rumored to live in there, and he's creepy!"

"I..tried to kill you?" whispered Brat and Bubbles nodded. She couldn't believe it. Unlike her sisters, she had a certain principle when fighting. If someone was nice to her, she wouldn't hurt them. She started this rule when she was around five. Or six. Before, she had been a real brat. But they had all changed. Berserk wasn't so crazy anymore, but sometimes Brat wished she was. She was cold now. Cold, and uncaring, and simply murderous. Brute was still a brute, but more intelligent.

"I've seen you…you're my mirror girl," realized Brat. She had thought it strange when she checked herself in the mirror, only to see that her reflection looked absurdly cheerful. "You're…the friend I made," she whispered, quietly enough so Bubbles couldn't hear. When the mirror girl had first appeared, Brat had called her 'Snow Queen' and had pretended that she was her best friend; her one and only friend. She trusted her with everything, and Snow Queen had never told anyone. Had Bubbles even heard her? Had Bubbles even _noticed_ her shrieks of despair?

"Oh! You saw me in the mirror? I saw you a lot as well after that day! You looked really tired and saw, and sometimes angry, but you were really nice. You helped me a lot. Thank you,"

Brat thought of all the times she had sat in front of the mirror and talked to her beautiful reflection. She had thought it her own imagination, but Snow Queen had always answered. Sometimes, she had looked sad instead of happy. Once, she had been so sad that it looked like she was already dead. After that day, she had been cheerful again though. Even more cheerful than before.

"Although…" started Bubbles again, "after I turned fourteen, I didn't see you anymore. Where did you go?"

Fourteen was when Brat had started noticing her male counterpart in a more positive light. She had been too wrapped up in her own fantasy, with her wicked stepsisters and Prince Charming, so delusional-

That she had forgotten all about the girl in the mirror who looked sad sometimes and always talked to her when she herself wanted to die. Kill everyone and then die.

_That she had forgotten about the person who she loved more than anyone or anything in the entire universe._

And then Brat broke.

The floodgates opened and she collapsed again, bawling out her problems. Bubbles pulled her into a hug.

After what seemed like an eternity, Brat pulled away from the girl's embrace. Bubbles smiled. "It's okay. I know how it feels. But I knew how to get over it better, I guess, and my sisters helped me a lot. I won't laugh at you. Not like they did."

Brat wiped the tears off her face. "Why are you being so nice to me?" _I forgot you. I abandoned you. I never helped you. _

Silence. And then Bubbles smiled. "This is why," And then she leaned in and gently kissed her on the lips.

And before she knew what she was doing, Brat kissed her back.

She hadn't seen Bubbles in years, so why didn't this feel awkward?

"Hey..Bubbles," said Brat when they had finally pulled away from each other. "You said…you said you knew how I felt…was it? Was it…because of…maybe…your version of _him…_did the same to you?" she wasn't sure if Bubbles knew exactly what she was talking about, but Bubbles nodded.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Bubbles.

"Why?"

"He was part of the reason yours left you, wasn't he?"

Brat thought about what she had walked into, and what Bash had told her afterwards.

"…I suppose so,"

There was a long pause, and then they spoke in unison: "I should've kept an eye on him. Kept him from wanting to throw you away."

Brat hugged Bubbles this time. It didn't feel awkward at all. It felt _right. _She wasn't sure if it felt right to Bubbles, but it felt right to her. It had always felt right to talk to her. And that's when it clicked.

"Hey, Snow Queen," began Brat, at the same time that Bubbles said, "Hey, Moon Ballerina,"

They looked each other in the eye and smiled.

"I think I love you,"


End file.
